Grace Note
by SkyeMoor
Summary: It is always darkest just before dawn. Light a candle, and outshine the dark.
1. Chapter 1

Severus Snape stood at Number 12 Grimmauld Place, clad in a werewolf's skin. His enhanced sense of smell made his nose wrinkle slightly. It was as if they hadn't even dared venture out the door to clean up the filth.

Pathetic.

Taking a deep breath, and dropping the sneer, Severus Snape moulded himself into the relatively friendly features of a certain werewolf.

He knocked on the door, palming a flask in his left hand.

"Remus!" Potter incautiously said, before pausing, "What did you say to me before you turned?"

Snape nearly smiled, this was easy as taking candy from a baby, " _Run._ " He then picked up the flask and threw it into the house. _So much for the werewolf_ , he thought grimly, uncorking a smoke grenade for chaos - and to prevent fools from apparating. The softer, the quieter this was done, the better.

Snape's wand caressed the air, coaxing a wind to whisk the contents of that flask higher. Sleeping gas, combined with a minor paralytic - to prevent injury, mostly.

Stepping inside, Snape shut the door, rolling up his raggedy sleeves to reveal coils of rope. Magically-resistant rope. Methodically, he started from the top of the house, tying up each order member. The Weasleys were missing, except for the youngest boy, which was no surprise. They tended to be sent out on missions, because they were purebloods. And Molly could carry a mean dozen eggs, courtesy of the Twins.

At last, Snape reached poor, pathetic Potter, taking just a moment to brush the hair out of the idiot's eyes, before tying him up too. He brought them all into the tatty living room.

He strode up the stairs to the Black Library, picked up the darkest book he could find, and returned downstairs. This was going to be a while.

Snape stretched, as the dose of polyjuice wore off, his body lengthening, and most importantly, losing the werewolf's self-destructive scars. He was always more comfortable in his own body. Safer that way, even when he was in the house of his enemy. Fleeter and defter in his own form, always.

Almost as soon as Snape was in his original body, the spectre of Albus Dumbledore arose. Snape looked at the simulacrum, and boomed out a baritone laugh. "Ah, Albus, you soddin' old codger! The gang's all here, then?" The mouldy old spectre tried to curse him, but Snape just shook with suppressed laughter.

Snape sat down again, reading the book and occasionally asking "Albus" for commentary, in that slyly sardonic manner of his. He roughly quenched this amusement long before his audience woke up.

Ten wands, for ten Order Members, lay on the living room table.

Ten order members lay either on the couch, or like kindling beside it. Oddly, Potter stirred first. "YOU!" Potter shouted, as his eyes cleared and blinked enough to see Snape, his legs crossed at the ankle, as he read on the stuffed Queen Anne chair. "I'm Going to Kill you!"

"Arrogant as always, Potter." Snape's eyes sparkled with amusement he knew the child would never see. "Do you really think you can succeed where the Great Albus Dumbledore failed?"

"Only one way to find out!" Harry growled through gritted teeth, his body wiggling like a worm, as he made a manful effort to inchworm his way towards Snape's... well-worn shoes. There were holes in those soles, from pacing.

Potter got within a foot, and Snape swiftly uncrossed his legs, in the process placing his shoe atop Potter's neck, pressing down lightly. "Do you yield?" Snape asked, sounding bored.

Potter just growled, trying to wriggle without breaking his neck. If there was one good trait about the idiot, it was his determination. Rather futile in this case, however.

Snape drew his wand lazily, using a transfiguration spell to give Potter pangolin-like plates of keratin, over his entire body except his face. Unlike the Pangolin, Harry's were exclusively intended to keep him immobile. "You should have yielded," Snape said softly, "You'll find this far more humiliating. I should know." Snape absently booted Harry's well-protected side. The skillful kick sent Potter onto his back, his hands and feet up in the air.

Snape looked over, abruptly interested in the _lack_ of movement thereabouts the couch. Contemplatively, He stalked over, silent as ever. Granger and Weasley were unable to keep their faces straight. Still, if he'd meant to murder them, it was an unlikely scenario.

"Now that Potter's been taken care of," Snape said mildly, "Do either of you have anything to say for yourselves?" Snape's face broke into a ghastly smile. "Or were you hoping that I wouldn't notice?"

"Standard strategy, if you are vulnerable - act more vulnerable, and hope to exploit your enemy's lassitude." Ron Weasley spat. Somehow, the Weasley was still coherent. Snape had halfway thought he would have dissolved into mundane profanities.

"Both, sir," Hermione said firmly, her clarity of thought showing through even with such small words, "Of course, we hoped that you wouldn't notice. You could hardly mean us well, leaving us all tied up like this." Snape's eyes glittered at Hermone, who swallowed. "I'll ask the question Harry's dying to. Why did you kill Dumbledore."

"You will abide until the time comes for that answer, as will Potter." Snape said calmly and clearly.

"You have an answer then," Hermione said calmly.

Snape nodded, "You will generally find, in times of war, that even your closest allies may sometimes need restraint to see the cold clear light of logic and reason."

[a/n: Minor prequel to "Grace Note" - I hate stories that say, "Snape showed up, or skulked back into the Order's good graces" - no, he's a Slytherin. He'll have the top hand if at all possible. And he's heard people's passphrases before.

Leave a review!]


	2. Enter the Wolf, on soft gray paws

Granger's eyes echoed with mistrust - but also a growing interest. _There you are._ Snape thought. _If only I needed to convince just her..._ She had the pure curiosity that was Slytherin's greatest treasure; and was missing only some of the paranoia that was a Slytherin's birthright. _Otherwise, she'd simply assume I was lying. Like the idiot beside her._

The next to wake was old Alastor, thrashing himself to the ground in half-awareness of his captivity. It took the pain of cracking his head on the corner of the coffeetable, before his eyes fully cleared of sleep. Naturally, they did so just as Snape was bending over to assess the copious amounts of blood gushing from the small rent in Alastor's skin. "You!" Moody screamed, his entire body flexing as he tried to escape the ropes binding him. He flexed hard enough that the ropes started to cut through his skin - he stopped before they drew blood.

In the middle of this thrashing, Snape's robes had taken multiple splashes of Alastor Moody's blood. "It would appear that I haven't killed you. Jolly Good, I'd hate to have done so _unintentionally_." Snape stood, brushing his hands down his robes, and in the process coating them in blood. Looking down at his blood-covered hands, he solemnly intoned, "And people wonder why I wear black."

Harry Potter was undoubtedly glad to have his face pressed into the ground, as that way Snape couldn't see the near-hysterical grin. _I knew your mother, lad - and I'd know anyone shaking that much is quaking with laughter, not fear._

"Why'd ye have ta go an' kill him!?" Moody said.

"Oh, wonderful news." Snape intoned, "Brain Damage."

"He had a tumor?" Hermione asked, her eyes alight with curiosity.

Snape's glare sent that expression clear off her face. As it should be.

All this chaos had woken most people here - Diggle still blinked a little sleepily, and Dung was still drowzing. It was, in point of fact, one of his greatest skills. Dress him like a boozehound, and he could hear anything that anyone could say on the streets.

At least Moody had gotten his question out of the way.

Snape could see the looks, distrustful and mistrustful, on eight of the ten people who were tied up in front of him. Granger's eyes gleamed with curiousity, like a cat pacing around a catnip-containing box.

From behind Snape, there was the sound of someone flooing in. Snape forced himself to stay casual, to not tense, or worse, whirl around.

"Remus!" Ron Weasley cried, Potter's head snapping sideways (and then promptly falling on its ear). "Help us!"

Remus Lupin brushed the floo-ash off, and strode forward, casually putting a hand on Snape's shoulder. _Don't bite it off, he's the wolf, not you._ Remus smirked at Ron's violently red face, responding, "Always and forever."

Then he promptly turned to Snape, and, looking at Snape's cross expression, queried, "How many times?"

"Twice. I know when I'm whipped." Snape said, smirking.

"Typical." Lupin said, still smirking.

"What are you doing?!" Harry Potter finally exploded. Snape was honestly surprised it had taken that long. "Help us!"

With a mildly reproving look on his face, Lupin smirked back, "Next time you ask for help, you may want to be more specific about which kind you ask for."

Snape's lips twitched at the Slytherin response.

"Why. Are. You. Doing. This?" Kingsley said, his voice trying for commanding, and failing. Instead, it echoed the rage of someone who's watched the world burn, and everything he cared about with it.

Remus' tone rung with indifference, "None of you asked, you know? About the Wolfsbane, about me - or no more than normal."

Snape could see guilt radiating off Potter (always with the pity party, bucko). He kept his eyes focused on anyone except Granger, though if looks could dissect, he'd be flayed by now.

"That first month, _after_ \- when Minerva showed up with that incredibly impalatable concoction called Wolfsbane, I thought it was a miracle."

The entire room heard Snape's 'softer than a whisper' " _Idiot."_

"Afterwards, I wanted to ask," Remus said, his hands nervously wringing each other, "But Minerva said not to."

"She wouldn't have answered if you'd asked," Snape sneered. " _Some_ people know how to keep secrets."

Remus jumped like you'd put a hot coal on his tail, "I've _never_ -"

Snape rolled his eyes, "Not _you_ , **Black**." Snape was well aware that Potter was pained by even hearing the name. _Soft and green, the lot of them._

Hermione spoke up, her excited voice a hair louder than Snape's had been. "Wolfsbane is incredibly hard to make, you know." _Of course, I know,_ Snape thought, before mentally restraining himself, _She's speaking to the dunderheads, not me._ "Potion Master Snape is the only person in all of Britain who's been recorded as making it."

It was then, that Harry Potter did something unexpected, lifting his head from the floor and staring into Snape's black eyes, "Why would you do that? You hate him!?"

Snape found himself suddenly looking at eleven pairs of eyes. "It may sound cliche," Snape said, pulling his dignity close if not his robes, "It was the right thing to do."

That was not the right thing to say. Snape had known it, and had gone ahead and done it anyway. The ensuing din and ruckus had Remus covering his ears with his hands, and then, belatedly, trying to do the same with his eyes. Meanwhile, the room echoed with the name Albus Dumbledore (predictably, the first and last uttered by different people - for such a humble man, Albus had a billion titles he never used.).

It took about ten minutes for the room to settle down - grief, mixed with anger, mostly. Some rage (that went by the name Potter), and that peculiar ruddy tint of anger that could only be a Weasley temper. Granger was dead quiet - the quiet that said Answers had Better be Coming. Blaise Zambini had done a thing that Snape had never seen him do before - he'd _hunkered_ , that peculiarly Slytherin strategy of "don't look at me, let me look at you" It had been Nott's favorite tactic, his shyness for once proving an advantage.

Snape's face was a careful blank, as he started to roll up his sleeves. On his left arm, everyone could see the Dark Mark, and the children of course stared at it. The adults watched his other arm, as he carefully revealed twin stripes of gold, twining in two symmetrical helixes up his arm, nearly resembling a caduceus. Arabella was the first to gasp, "You! You didn't!"

Tonks whispered next, "Those are the signs of unbreakable vows..."

"Have you gone mad?" Moody shouted at Snape, "Have you taken leave of your senses and are you now living in Nevernever Land?"

Snape snorted a markedly unfriendly laugh, "Hardly."

"Off his rocker, he is!" Evangeline said, her laughter edging into something else, something darker.

Potter's eyes looked dark, to the point of mean, and he snarled out a single word question, _"Who?"_

It was the easier question to answer, the hoped for question. Who do you owe your life to? Who have you gifted your life to, Slytherin man? Snape stood tall, as he always did, and said sternly, "Albus Dumbledore."

Rather predictably, the room erupted in yet more chaos. Blaise was giving Snape a rather hard-edged glare. _Lad knows that I could have done this at any time. Knows I'm holding back why, too._

[a/n: Probably about one more chapter to "Snape's Ba-ack!" Leave a review? Why IS Snape here, anyway?

This is the second time. This time, Snape Brings Backup, in the form of Remus Lupin, Werewolf.

Who knew talking to hogtied allies would be so difficult?]


	3. The Hell are you on, Snape?

Moody's voice cut through the din, like a dull knife through a small boy's hand. "The hell are you on, _Snape_?"

Harry caught just a glimpse of shock in Remus' eyes, as he glanced at the old Auror. "I didn't get the full story either," Remus Lupin said, crossing his arms.

"And you certainly won't get it now," Snape snarled, his blackly endless eyes on Potter, not the werewolf.

"What happened?" Hermione Granger asked, her curiousity lapping at her feet like water, but the question itself was plaintative, pleading.

Snape turned towards her, and said shortly, "I swore an Unbreakable Vow to Albus Dumbledore, saying that I'd work to remove the Dark Lord's taint from this mortal coil." *

Ron's voice came out broken, "Fat job you're doing of that." He chuckled dryly, and others in the room laughed too.

Snape had seemed to go into a sort of reverie, which Harry found terrifying. "I _told_ him it was a _ridiculous_ plan. Stubborn old bastard never did listen to anyone else, though, _did he_?"

Hermione asked, in a small voice, "It was Dumbledore's plan, then?"

Snape whirled, his robes flaring out, as he glared at her abruptly, "It certainly wasn't the Dark Lord's plan. That was for Draco Malfoy to do the deed."

Harry Potter, if he'd been sitting up, would have been rocking back and forth. As it was, his head pressed to the ground, and turned to the side so that only one green eye was up, he asked softly, "He asked you to kill him? Why?"

Snape snarled, "If I knew that, maybe I'd have been able to talk him out of this lunatic plan." Snape seemed to visibly calm himself, saying, "Knowing him, it was something about Saving Malfoy's Soul or something ridiculous like that."

"You wanted to save your godson, didn't you?" Blaise's smooth voice cut through some of Snape's anger.

"Yes." Snape acknowledged shortly, "But such petty concerns rarely mattered to Albus." Snape's bleak eyes raked over Remus, who hung his head, quietly ashamed.

Tonks was perhaps the person least invested in Albus Dumbledore - she'd joined through Moody and Shacklebolt and Kingsley, not because the Great and Wise Dumbledore had asked her personally. "Who's is the other vow?"

"Narcissa Malfoy's," Snape said shortly.

Remus Lupin immediately had his wand in hand, reminding everyone that he was a talented Defense Instructor. "I think you'd better explain that one, _now_."

Snape appeared entirely unbothered by a hostile hand on a wand pointed at his throat. Potter shot Snape a jealous look, but then again, Potter had never had control over his emotions.

"It's nearly faded, in comparison," Snape said, pushing his arm into Lupin's oral range, heedless of the possibility of the wolf taking a nibble. Or at least, so it seemed.

"Why?" Blaise asked.

"Bellatrix Black had me at wandpoint, and her sister, the good Madame Malfoy, was at my feet, in tears - begging me to help her son with an impossible task." Snape said.

"To kill Albus Dumbledore," Potter said, in a voice that had gone dry.

"You think," Ron said, "He thought you were of more use to the Order than he was?"

It was a hard question, with a very easy answer. "No," Snape said, "I think Albus decided that his position as Headmaster overruled any decisions he might make as Leader of the Order of the Phoenix."

You could hear a pin drop.

"How is Hogwarts, Headmaster Snape?" Harry Potter's voice catcalled, "Now that death eaters roam the halls?"

"Not well, that's for certain." Snape said stiffly.

"Why are you here?" Moody asked, his voice carrying none of the vitriol from earlier.

"Minerva McGonagall's dead." Snape said, and Potter's eye caught the brief shadow of pain that crossed the old Potion Master's face. "So I regret to inform you, you're stuck with me."

"What does that mean?" Hermione queried.

"I will resume my duties as Official Order Spy, as opposed to Quisling from the Other Camp." Snape said, "I will also be taking over."

That sentence had people hollering, the general din suggested the answer was "why."

"You're pathetic," Snape snarled, "As the last bastion of the Light, I was able to walk in, myself, unaided, and subdue all of you present." Snape looked each person in the eye, until they broke the staring contest. "The first order of business is competent protocols for entrance into Order Headquarters."

It was at this point that Remus realized that Snape intended to have an Order meeting with the entire Order wrapped in bonds. Remembering some of the wild chaos from the early days (not even half of it caused by the Marauders), Remus couldn't exactly disapprove.

*Snape is paraphrasing. For Reasons.

[a/n: The prequel to this is The Floating World, which is not done. I will attempt to be disciplined and finish it before I continue on this story, so please, review now!]


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